I
took the shortest way, marking the smoking track left by my avalanche.
Asop followed me, shaking his head all the time and sneezing at the
smell of burning.
When I came down to the shed, I found a sight that filled me with
violent emotion. A boat lay there, crushed by the falling rock. And
Eva--Eva lay beside it, mangled and broken, dashed to pieces by the
shock--torn beyond recognition. Eva--lying there, dead.
XXXI
What more have I to write? I fired no shot for many days; I had no food,
and did not eat at all; I sat in my shed. Eva was carried to the church
in Herr Mack's white-painted house-boat. I went there overland on
foot...
Eva is dead. Do you remember her little girlish head, with hair like a
nun's? She came so quietly, laid down her head and smiled. And did you
see how full of life that smile was? Be still, Asop; I remember a
strange saga story, of four generations ago, of Iselin's time, when
Stamer was a priest.
A girl sat captive in a stone tower. She loved a lord. Why? Ask the
winds and the stars, ask the God of life, for there is none that knows
such things. The lord was her friend and lover; but time went on, and
one fine day he saw another and his liking changed.
Like a youth he loved his maid. Often he called her his blessing and his
dove, and said: "Give me your heart!" And she did so.
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